


Wear Your Wounds

by notNki



Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Amputee, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Body Horror, Burns, Depression, Gen, Other, Queer Character, Romance, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-27 07:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notNki/pseuds/notNki
Summary: Kajn (pronounced "Kein") always desired adventure outside of the Greatwoods, but years later, he's simply working a Gridania bar, with a missing arm and scars he hides. If there's a story to tell, he's never said.One early morning, a visitor arrives and gives him a piece of advice that drives him to lay to rest the ghosts of his past, and secure his once future dream.
Relationships: OCs - Relationship





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The inspiration for this work was originally that I need a FFXIV DND character with as simple backstory, and obviously it kind of exploded from there.  
> The intention behind the story itself was to tell a story of the kind of adventures you don't often see as protagonists. Ones who are battered and beaten, physically and mentally, though I wanted to tell a tell of both their suffering and yet their courage to continue on in spite of everything. Whatever others feel they lack, it doesn't matter to them. An adventurer is an adventurer.
> 
> Also as note for FFXIV players, this was created during the era of Stormblood, and beyond that it takes many liberties with where locations are, how abilities work, and such. It's within the FFXIV universe, but it's not strict to the rules thereof.

“And Dalamud came lo, and I looked upon him and I saw the image of Bahamut, the great destroyer, rise out of this manufactured moon. And he then unfurled his great wings, and glowed a radiant blue, even in the darkness. I stood in awe. We all did. The war between the empire and the alliance meant nothing in the shade of the beast...and so, though it felt like holding a parchment to a sandstorm, I raised my shield as I saw his great jaw open wide, and the unfurling lights of an oncoming Ahk-Morn and Teraflare.”

“What a load ‘a crap!” a Hyur bar patron shouted at his table. He stood up with a huff, his eyes barely able to focus on his object of attention and apparent frustration. His face was almost baby-like, with such soft and clear skin.  
“Tis true you twat!” the storyteller responded, his wrinkled face poised to a grimace. The elder Elezen then took his hand to his sleeve and pulled it up, revealing a line of deep cuts and small scars. The drunken Hyur stood aback, and opened his jaw in awe.  
The third patron, a young female roegadyn, simply laughed. She wore her hair long, and blue, with one side shaved, almost showcasing a spot where nothing was going to grow back over the concave section of her skull. By the sound of her speech, it would seem that she’d had more drinks in her than years on her tonight.  
“What, you?! Don’t believe me?” the Elezen sneered.  
At this, the roe continued to laugh a jolly laugh.  
“Not fer a moment, frien’.”  
She sticks out a thumb and points behind her.  
“If tis bunny boy ‘ere loses that much jus’ from Ifrit, then you’d be nothin’ but a pile o’ ash!”  
The roe can no longer contain herself and bursts out laughing, falling backwards in her chair in a drunken stupor. The Elezen man looks past the Hyur towards the individual the roe spoke of.  
Carefully, a Viera bends down to place a tray of drinks on the table. Then, with the same hand, he takes each off and bestoes them upon each person. As he stands all the way back up, it almost appears as if a giant has entered their ranks.

At nearly eight feet tall, that alone could make the Viera a bit of an imposing sight. His chocolate-colored fur contrasted greatly to his off-white hair, long, unkempt, and running down his right side. Of course, what draws the eyes of the drunkards is his face. He’s clearly missing most of his right ear, and about a third of the right side of his face is covered in intense burn scarring that runs from the chunk of his ear, down his visage, and works its way down through his clothing. Of his two silver eyes, the scarring reaches dangerously close to his right one, as if it’s trying to overtake it’s hold on the Viera’s sight. Closer to the edge, the scarring looks more rooted in, recovering some pinkish-hue of his skin, though the fur has not grown back.

Maybe surprisingly, the robes were actually the least interesting of anything. A simple tunic suiting that of a tavern waiter, sans one entire right arm. Only the sleeve dangles loosely in the air.

“Iffffrit, ehhhh?” the Hyur slurs out. He grabs his new mug and stands upright, even then only barely meeting the Viera’s chest.  
“You sure it was-” he begins, before laughing out loud at his own joke, “-wasn’t a tr-tragic woodworking accident?!”  
And at that, the Hyur loses it. He laughs so loud the tiny Gridanian tavern has to all but stop their own conversations to witness the event. It’s not long before the Elezen joins himself, as well as the Roe, still on the floor in her chair. Many of the other patrons though, are simply waiting; watching.  
“Whadda think ‘ell do?” one whispers to another.  
“I heard that those Viera folk can kick someone’s torso off their legs in one fell swoop.”  
“Yeah? Cause I heard this one’ll break your neck if you look at ‘em too long.”  
The Viera pays the distant talkers, who think they’re whispering, no mind. He simply bends at his knees, takes the back of the Roe’s chair, with her in it, and flips it back upright in one motion. The Roe jostles forward against the table and back to her chair.  
“Aye... ‘tanks,” she says whilst rubbing the back of her head.  
The Viera takes the tray and places it to his chest. He bows slowly.  
“Need anything else?” he asks quietly.  
“N-no. Fine ‘ere.” the Roe responds.

And with that, the night adjourns to its normal state of drinking by moonlight, and the Viera delicately steps his way around the tables, placing new drinks down without a word. Slowly, but steadily, sleep’s grasp takes its toll on everyone, and the bar is emptied out for another twilight of peace.

>   
>    
> 

The sounds of light footsteps precede a door opening into a small, dark room. By the light of the hallway, the Viera ducks under the doorway, steps inside, feels around on a counter for a box, and lights a match. The flame ignites, and he quickly places it to the candle until it takes hold, then shuts the door to the outside and crawls to the other side of his apartment.

Sitting on his bed, with his legs uncomfortably bent inward, the Viera lies next to a blue carbuncle toy made of soft cloth and cotton. He gently rubs the top of its head, pushing back its long, fluffy ears. He lies on his back and raises it above him, smiling at the beady black eyes and white tummy fur. Placed next to his bed is a stack of books all with titles listing themselves as Arcanist tools. Tomes on how to read the glyphs, how to channel aether, and even a few on the bottom about advanced tactics of companion commanding, all held above the floor by one who’s spine says, “Eorzean-Vieran Dictionary”. Sitting on the very top though, is a bur- charred book; its cover collecting dust in this tiny apartment room.

Basking in the glow of the candlelight, the Viera eyes the tome and reflexively takes the carbuncle plush in his arm. He presses it so close the toy begins to distort, and his breathing becomes shallow. His eyes dart from the tome to the area below the candlelight, then above it, and the matches next to it, and then- the light itself. And there they fixate. The orange glow of the fire turns an intense red in the reflection of his eyes, and he cannot make himself blink, nor look away.  
A voice begins to echo from the past. Quiet, at first, then louder, and louder and louder and louder louderandlouderandlouderandlouderandlouer-  
“Kajn!”  
“Kajn!”  
“Gods dammit Kajn! Get a hold of yourself!”

And there the Viera stands, deep inside an echo of himself. A shadow invader in his own body, helpless but to repeat what he already knows is done.  
Next to him stands a Lalafell warrior, deeply plated in layers of armor, which reflects the light of the raging fires around him. One would never know it was nighttime for all the light being shot through the air in the form of fiery pillars erupting from the earth itself.  
“Aye!” calls a voice from the back, belonging to a Au Ra white mage. They wear their robes loosely, covering little of themselves. Their dark blue skin and pulled back black hair keeps their intense glowing eyes always in sight. The Viera can already see the sweat glistening from them.  
“The warrior of light is nowhere to be found, so it falls to us to take care of this beast once more.”

The Viera dares not look forward, but there’s no choice. He’s merely a spectator to his own body.  
And so he gazes upon the visage of Ifrit, the infernal primal of lore. Its horns are bathed in red light, and its body appears to have the texture of charred wood mixed with reptilian skin. It’s mouth practically oozes liquid fire, ready to incinerate any who would stand in its way.  
Like the Viera, and his companions.

“Prepare your summon, Kajn!” the warrior shouts.  
But he can’t. His eyes see the glyphs, but they make no sense to him. A foreign language yet still. Did he not study enough? Did he need more aether? Was his body doomed to never have the needed attunement from the start?  
But he cannot tell them the lie.  
That he’s incapable.  
A fraud.  
A coward.  
A failure to his own people, and himself.  
Ifrit pats the dirt before them and leans forward. Their patience has worn so thin already. The beginning was the end all along.

“I should never have left the Greatwoods,” he solemnly swears.  
“Now’s not the time to be homesick Kajn!” the Lala continues, “now get your summon rea-”  
And in a flash, gone. The fiery wake of Ifrit’s charge tore through the Lalafell like there was nothing there. Years of upbringing, a dream of becoming one to help the weak, attunement to the ways of the warrior, gathering gil for supplies, swearing oaths, readying up, leaving friends and family behind, and it mattered not. Ifrit destroyed an entire being’s history and future before he could even finish a sentence.  
Now… there was nothing left but ash.  
The Viera’s body takes hold and looks over to see Ifrit, snarling and ready for another round.  
It was an unfair game they played. They were not warriors of light. They weren’t made for this.  
And among them was a liar in an Arcanist’s robes.  
The Au Ra grabs hold of the Viera and pushes him to the side.  
The Au Ra face’s intensity is matched only by the sound of their sole conviction. They do no shake, nor quiver, at the sight of this demon or the loss of a friend.  
“Ay! Get a hold of yourself! We lost Era but I cannot lose you. I need you to help me.”  
The Viera nods, but his watering eyes can’t help but relinquish the truth to the Au Ra. There is no hiding from their gaze.  
Ifrit snarls, but holds for now.  
With a gentle care seemingly impossible for this situation, the Au Ra takes their head and places it against the Viera’s. In here, even merely watching, the Viera knows the warmth of that connection, and feels it himself.  
Their voice is soft and low when they say, “I need you here, Kajn. Whatever you can manage, we’ll make it work. I will be here to close your wounds, but I need you to work with me. Okay?”  
The Viera’s breathing is unsteady. 

Short.  
Shallow.  
Irregular.

“Okay?” they repeat.  
“Okay,” the Viera eeks out.  
“Those carbuncles are pretty cute, aren’t they?” the Au Ra says.  
“Y-yeah,” the Viera reponds, with nervous laughter.  
“Then let's see what you’ve got in there.”  
The Au Ra forms a fist and places it gently on the Viera’s chest. The hand bobs back and forth to the rhythm of the breathing. In a few moments, it evens out.  
“Let’s get ‘em. Together.”  
The Au Ra raises their head up high. Just as tall as the Viera’s. They then begin to spin their staff in a circle in front of them, effortlessly passing it between their hands. It’s a practiced maneuver; one becoming of a white mage. Their eyes closed, the Au Ra seems to be focusing intently on some unseen force before them.  
“The aether,” the Viera says, “their aether.”  
The Au Ra opens their mouth, and when they speak, the words seem to drift out of them twice. Once their voice, and once another’s. The soul of the white mage.  
“Divine Benison.”

The Au Ra looks at the Viera and swears, “This will protect you, but only so much. You must summon our new companion by yourself.”  
Meanwhile, Ifrit had been circling the arena, playing with the fools who would challenge it. The Viera could see the fire beginning to well up inside them. They were readying another charge. The Viera looked down at his book. A focus for his aether. The glyphs were still there, but he could make out a few things.  
Something had to be written down.  
But what?  
He could hear the sound of Ifrit’s growl before him.  
What is it? It starts with a ‘C’ I know!  
Ifrit pulled their body back, ready to dash forward.  
“This is it Kajn! Now or never!”  
The sweat was beginning to get in his eyes. The Au Ra was right. Do or die.  
C-O-N-T-R-A-C-T  
That’s it! You must sign a contract!  
And with that, the Viera took out his pen and began to furiously write his incantation. And as he did, he felt the aether flowing from his body and to the book, which began channeling into something forming before him. At first, it was only a light, and ever so slowly the shell established itself.  
But suddenly, something took hold of his head, and started splitting it in two. A voice, maybe, that sounded like a glacier breaking apart in his head. It kept shouting something; something important.  
The Viera dropped his book and whatever was becoming of this world with his aether dissipated. He clutched and pulled at his ears, desperately wishing the noise away.  
Then, in one moment, the sound became singular. One voice, now. With one command.  
“Save them!”

The Viera’s eyes shot open wide, but it mattered not. The past was already written in the echoes of time. Ifrit’s charge tore straight through the Au Ra’s body and turned them into nothing, the same as Era. Like before, there was no goodbye.  
When the body crossed the Viera however, it met some resistance.  
The Divine Benison. It’s aether shattered like glass before the Viera’s eyes before his right arm was torn clean off of him. In a flash, his fur caught fire from the primal’s aether and the searing pain begged his body to tear its own lungs out to stop the screaming that ensued. From his foot to his face, a black-red char has overtaken him, etching this night deeper into him than the scars would ever show.  
And then, everything went black.

>   
>    
> 

The Viera awoke in a cold sweat, violently clutching at the air that once held their right arm. Tears were already streaming down his face, and he could barely breathe.  
“I’m so sorry,” he said to the darkness in his room.  
“If I had not lied. If I had only been stronger…”  
He rolled his arm back to his side to see that he was still keeping the carbuncle toy close to him. Violently, he threw it against the wall, though it gave no sound in return as catharsis, leaving the Viera alone in his quiet, dark room.  
“If only I had not wanted either of you...”


	2. Chapter 2

The warm spring air delicately played with the Viera’s hair as the back door to the bar’s balcony opened for the first time this morning. All the chairs were still upturned on the tables, and the only people inside were him and the owner. Through the open front door though, he could see disciples of the land and adventures alike exiting the safety of Gridania for the world outside. Most of them in the early mornings were young, cheerful, and pristine. After a minute, the Viera catches himself blankly staring out into the open world outside, and quickly resumes taking water to his cloth to clean the tables through the day.  
Some time later as the sun was reaching its apex, a feminine roe entered the tavern and stopped at the table the Viera was at. He was staring dillengently at some spot that reeked of vomit and just wouldn’t come out, even as he pressed harder and harder.  
“Ay,” the roe called out.  
“We’re closed until dusk I’m afraid,” the Viera said.  
“Don’t rememba me?”  
At this, the Viera looked up. She did indeed look familiar, though he wasn’t sure why.  
“I’m afraid I don’t know.”  
The woman pursed her lips and heaved a heavy sigh.  
“I was ‘te one who fell back in me chair while callin’ out... your…”  
She gestured to his loose fabric on his right side.  
“So you are,” the Viera responded tersely.  
“And, er- I wanted to tell ye something.”  
The Viera continued to scrub the table vigorously.. And so, the Roe went to the Viera’s side and put the chair next to him on the ground, then pulled it back. She motioned to it, but he continued to work. She then went to the opposite side and flipped that chair to the floor as well, and took a seat.  
“Ya know when ye get drunk with some folk and ye start just sayin’ whatever comes out of yer mouth?”  
The Viera nods silently while he cleans another part of the table.  
“Well, I said some things, but I’m not here to apologize about that.”  
At that, the Viera’s eyebrows furrow. He stops scrubbing.  
“So, you’ve come to make a fool of me again, then?”  
“‘Twas an adventurer like you once, as well.”  
“How did you-”  
“You carry a lotta pain. That much ish easy to tell.”  
She puts an arm on the back of the chair and looks behind her to the outside world.  
“T’ose of us with scars wake ‘later than ‘te new bloods. ‘Te aches and pains keep us ‘n bed fer a while longer.”  
The Viera presses his arm forcefully against the table, his hand shaking slightly. He stands up fully and places his hand in his pocket.  
“And you might’a been lookin’ at me and thinkin’ what’s she on about? Looks perfectly fine to me.”  
The roe pauses, and her eyes close.  
“And you’d be almost right, ‘cept one thin.”  
She taps the side of her head with two fingers.  
“Took a blast some years back with me helmet on. Now can’t do mucha anythin’ without makin’ me head hurt like a sword to te gut.”  
The Viera tilts his head slightly, and he very carefully places himself in the chair across from the Roe.  
“All our fights leave us wit’ a little less, but ya can’t always tell by just lookin’.”  
The Viera’s hand is still shaking.  
“Then why...why single me out? Why remind me?”  
“A good friend once told me, “be not define’d by the scars that pain ye. Be define’d by ‘te resolve you find ta carry on in spite of ‘em.”  
The Roe places her hands together on the table before them. She casts her gaze downward.  
“Cept probably with a prettier voice tan me.”  
The Viera smirks a bit.  
“Now me,” she begins, “woulda put it simpla’ than that. Fer all the beins’ like me who find tat too much te say!”  
Now the Viera chuckles a bit.  
“Yeah?” he asks.  
“Yeah,” she responds, quieter now, “I tink, fer me, I’d say somethin’ like “wear your wounds.”  
The Viera looks confused.  
“And…”  
“And thassit!” she barks back joyfully.  
The Roe stands back up in one motion, and begins to walk back out of the tavern.  
The Viera struggles to stand back up with, “Wait! I’m not sure what you mean by…”  
But, the words fail him as she continues to walk out and back towards the market section of Gridania, leaving only the soft sounds of nature to prick at the Viera’s ears for the rest of the day.

>   
>    
> 

Late that night, the Viera opens a familiar door to his apartment, and in that same ritual, lights the candle using the light of the hallway, and then crawls over to his bed.  
In a few moments though, he feels that something is missing in the crook of his arm. He begins to scan the room, and he notices his usual companion still lying against the wall, squished and malformed.  
And he stares at it.  
And thinks about the morning visitor.  
Wear your wounds.  
And he looks at his book, all charred with pages half burnt away. He reaches over and opens it in the candlelight. Most of the pages contain glyphs, some reference notes, and many scribbled out writings. Near the middle however, he spies a page that’s mostly gone, but he now knows what it was. There’s some etchings he can make out of a contract. A relinquishing of power from one to another, and an oath to protect each other. 

>   
>    
> 

“See,” the voice of the Au Ra echoes in his head, “it’s written something like this.”  
The Viera stares at the page intently, but the language is foreign to him. The bustling of the busy Gridanian markets doesn’t help his concentration. People are trying their best to purchase supplies and grab partners for hunts left and right, all before they’re gone.  
One of the eager hunters bumps at the Viera, knocking the carbuncle plushie stuck betwixt his arm and chest, and with a frightful gasp he bends down and picks it up among the smattering of busy boots crossing the floors.  
“I don’t understand,” he says sadly as he stands back up.  
The Au Ra hands the open tome to the Veira’s waiting hands. They put their arm around him and give a gentle tug.  
“It’s okay. You’ll get it someday.”  
“Can’t I just write it in my native language?”  
The Au Ra shakes their head.  
“Sorry, but it only works in Eorzean, and some ancient form of it at that. It’s not a dialect I fully comprehend myself.”  
The Viera makes a sound like a hurt animal.  
The Au Ra takes their hands to the Viera’s shoulders, one of the few that easily can at his height, and places their head against his.  
Their voice is soft and impossibly gentle to the Viera’s ears.  
“I know you’ll figure it out someday, because you’re stronger than you know. And when you do summon them, I’m sure you’ll see me soon after.”  
“Why can’t you just stay here?”  
The Au Ra sighs in dismay.  
“I would quite love to, but there is simply not enough gil for an adventurer in any one place, sadly. But you’ll find me, I’m sure... or me, you. People like us are always at the boards, somewhere. Okay?”  
“Okay.”  
The Au Ra pulls back, and immediately the Viera can feel the cold autumn air brushing against his forehead, though his whole face feels hot now.  
“I’ll be seeing you around, and until then, keep the tome.”  
The Au Ra slowly cups the Viera’s hands in theirs and shuts the book tight. With one last smile, another adventurer signals at them, and they’re off, taking confident strides with a new hunt bill in hand. 

>   
>    
> 

The Viera sits up and crawls over to the carbuncle plush. He picks it up and places it on the counter to brush it off a little bit, and takes it in his arm to his chest. Carefully, he crawls back to the bed and sits upright. He gently places the toy in his lap and opens the book on one leg. Taking out the pen next to it, he begins to write forth the contract once more. Having not studied for some time, the words appear mangled to his mind, but he can make out enough to put simple words in pen to paper.  
As he does, he feels the aether leaving his body and channeling into the book. The script upon the tome begins to glow slightly, and the aether in front of him begins to form something otherly.  
A few moments later, he snaps the book shut, and a weak smile crosses his face as he basks in a new, radiant light.  
“And what shall we call you?...” 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s midday at the Gridanian markets, and the boards are already full of different hunts to take. People of all races gather around to find a few solo jobs, and some are holding up flyers to take on parties for bigger problems.  
One of them, a grizzled, elder Miqo’te waves around a flyer for IFRIT: THE BEAST RETURNED. One young adventurer catches him to the side and taps his shoulder, but when he turns to them, they can see that his right eye is missing completely. Not just damaged, but actually gone, leaving only a hollow husk of rotted insides where it used to reside. The claw marks around it are not from some small best either, as they take over the whole of his face, leaving deeply entrenched valleys through his skin. At the sight of this, the adventurer is taken aback at first, then proceeds to ignore the glare from the Miqo’te as they walk onward elsewhere.  
“Oh c’mon you lot!” he shouts, as adventurers quietly pass by him. From the smallest Lalafell to the largest Roe, no one else seems to take notice.  
“Gods damn you fresh-faced bastards!” he continues, “if we don’t stop this, there won’t be an Eorzea left to pick up your pitiful coin with!”

Along comes a Viera, the only known for miles and miles, with a charred book in his arm. He takes a quick breath and smoothes out the robes on his chest. With only a single red and white sash coming down his side, and a few adornments, a small pouch, plus some short leggings and no sandals, he’s dressed lightly today. He holds the burned tome out in front of him, rubs his thumb along the cover, and then places it away in the pouch.   
The people who walk past him somehow try to both look at his scars and pretend they’re not looking at them. One female Hyur, whom passes by holding one bloodied hand wrapped in gauze in another, looks up at the Viera and offers a single nod to him.

“What’s it gonna take for you pieces of-” the one-eyed Miqo’te begins before the flyer is snatched out of his hand. The Viera holds it in front of his face.  
“Seems like a good job.”  
The Miqo’te at first looks confused, then traces his eye across the right of the Viera’s body. He sighs with a few nods; rubs at his ear.  
“T’would be a job for fellas like us, I suppose.”  
“Yeah, ‘spose so,” a familiar voice calls back.  
The Viera and Miqo’te look back to see the feminine Roe with the head scarring coming up to them, wearing plated armor and no helmet. She looks at the Viera and taps at her head.  
“Not much more Ifrit could do ta me noggin anyroad.”  
The Viera looks at the Roe; tries to keep his composure even though he feels a tightness in his chest.  
“Ya sure you’ll be goodin’?” the Roe asks the Viera.  
The Viera snaps to attention.  
“I- could ask the same of you,” he says with a forced-sly tone.  
“Well, I only ask ‘cause if ya up ‘n die on me then who’s gonna get me drinks at my favorite tavern?”  
“If you die, then who’ll I get drinks for?”  
They both burst out in a bit of a laughing fit, leaving the Miqo’te confused and a bit agitated.  
“Alright ye lot. Seems like ye both know ya’chother, so let’s get on it. I’ve been trained as a white mage by the guild here for years. Whaddya have?”  
The Roe gestures to the sword and shield on her back.  
“Train with te best Ul’dah had te offer!” she says, hands on her hips with a smirk.  
“And you?” the Miqo’te asks of the Viera.  
He opens up the pouch and takes out his charred spellbook.  
“Twelve, that’s seen better days. We should get you a new one before-”  
“It’s fine,” the Viera says, “don’t worry about it.”  
The Miqo’te twists his face in utter disbelief, but merely shrugs.  
“Sure ‘en. But ‘er, how will ya…”  
He motions a pen writing in a book using two hands.  
“It won’t be a problem.”  
The Miqo’te’s eye narrows.  
“You sure you got this? I ain’t questionin’ your past ability, but maybe you’d be better off leavin’ the adventurin’ life.”  
The Viera pauses for a few moments. He eyes the Miqo’te back, whom wears more of a face of genuine concern than irritation. He glances to the Roe. She smiles and nods at him.  
Then, with confidence in his voice, he says, “I’m felling Ifrit. Whether you join me or not is up to you.”  
He begins to walk off with the flyer in hand, and the Roe follows with him.  
“I’ll just need to make a stop while you secure a wagon if that’s alright.”  
“Course! And er, what’s yer name, tall boy?” the Roe asks casually.  
“It’s Kajn. And yours?”  
“Lykae,” she cheerfully reponds.  
The Miqo’te stands at the marketboard, shocked and frozen. As the duo saunter out of sight, he begins to chase after them.  
“Wait on me you two idjots!”

>   
>    
> 

On the wagon towards the canyon where Ifrit was last seen, the Miqo’te looks outward into the countryside.  
“Name’s Na’li by the way,” he says, still looking to the green hills as they are overtaken by the desert's expansion. They’re making the cross to Ul’Dah now.  
Kajn and Lykae both offer weak smiles.  
“So,” Lykae begins, “I like te look.”  
She eyes Kajn head to toe, at which he locks up for a moment. His arm reflexively takes to his right shoulder, now exposed fully to the light of day, but he stops it, and moves it slowly back to his side.  
He blushes a good bit with a quiet, “thank you.”  
“But how did ye get te hair done?”  
Kajn tilts his head. Lykae points at his now tightly braided hair flowing behind him in the wind.  
“Oh,” he says while taking it in his hand, “I had a little help.” 

>   
>    
> 

The owner of the bar for as long as Kajn has been there has always been DoeDoe, the tallest Lalafell in Gridina... though self-proclaimed. Measuring at something like four feet tall and barely coming up to Kajn’s stomach. His mustache however, was the stuff of legend; at least locally. Elegantly groomed and trimmed to perfection, always. ‘Damn new adventures think I’m only 230 if I shave it,’ he used to say.  
Kajn sits on a chair, while DoeDoe stands on the bartop, slowly working through the bunny’s long throngs of white hair. Bit by bit, he ties them together into little knots, each as beautiful and tightly held as the last.  
“So, this is goodbye, ain’t it,” he says sternly in his rather higher pitched voice.  
“I would hope not,” Kajn responds shyly, “I was thinking I could take my old job back here after this.”  
“Hmmm…” DoeDoe mummers as he pulls another two strands of hair together, “don’t think so.”  
Kajn tries to snap his head around to see DoeDoe with, “but why not?!”  
“Hold still ye forehead,” DoeDoe exclaims as he slaps Kajn on the head. He continues the braiding. They sit in silence for a few moments.  
“I…” DoeDoe begins, with that stern voice cracking apart for a moment, “don’t think you’ll like it back here after all that. Ye left your forest home for adventuring, not ‘cause you wanted to serve drinks to a bunch of workin’ folk while you barely fit in yer apartment at night.”  
Kajn scrunches his eyebrows together.  
“How did you…”  
“If the damnable things here can barely fit my husband, and he’s the shortest Hyur in the land, then ye, you got problems, boy.”  
Again, silence.  
“I have to tell ya though. Felling Ifrit will neither kill it, nor bring your partner back.”  
DoeDoe readies his hands for another braid, but they’re quivering.  
“It don’t work like that.”  
Kajn lets out a sound like the air is being ejected from him, and he struggles to take it back in.  
“I know… Gods I know that well…”  
His eyes glisten in the lamplight.  
“But it’s not just about that, or about…”  
He eyes his stub jutting out of his right shoulder. The well worn scars affixed to their new permanent residence.  
“...about myself either.”  
With shaking hands, DoeDoe continues the braid further down.  
“Suppose so,” he says, “The heart of an adventurer can never rest till they’ve taken their last breath.”  
DoeDoe hops off the bartop to the floor and walks in front of Kajn. He gives him a pat on the leg.  
“Ye got this, Kajn. Took ya a while, but it’s finally time to get out there and see the world with your new friend.”  
A few shelves in the back rumble a bit, and a bottle falls over, smashing on the ground and losing all its contents.  
“Hey, geet outta there!” DoeDoe commands.  
The sounds stop, and a little glowing pearl-white-colored head pokes out from under the bar counter. It vibrates seemingly constantly, and it’s long fluffy ears and big eyes transfix Kajn for a moment. Then he shakes his head and quickly stands up while clearing his tears with his arm.  
“Oh gods I’m so sorry let me clean it-”  
DoeDoe waves him off with a gruff mutterance.  
“Oh don’t worry about me. You’ve got to get on that wagon and take on yer first proper adventure.”  
“But-” Kajn begins, but DoeDoe has already waddled off and grabbed the tavern’s broom, which is a few feet taller than him. He begins to sweep up the glass.  
“Just come back and see me sometime, Kajn. My bar could use a few heroes to spice up the place a bit, dont’cha think?”  
DoeDoe smiles at Kajn, and he back. 

>   
>    
> 

“Welp, this is as far as I go,” the driver sounds.  
In the distance one can see fiery pillars shooting into the air and scattering dust across the sand infused landscape. The pathway to the epicenter takes a long trek down deep into a canyon, where the sun barely peeks through the rocks overhead.  
“Seems our boy’s been busy,” The Miqo’te says, his eye watching and moving with the fire as it rockets towards the sky.  
“T’would seem so,” Lykae reponds. She jumps off the cart with a huff and a loud thud.  
“Now let’s get ‘is done afore my head explodes.”  
Kajn and Na’li nod in agreement, and begin to walk together straight down into the bowls of Ifrit’s newest domain. 

>   
>    
> 

The sweltering heat of the Ul’dah outskirts would normally be enough to take down an under-equipped individual, but today, they’re nothing compared to the raging fires of Ifrit in the canyon before the trio. Whatever the cause, the summoning seemed to set Ifrit particularly aflame today.  
At the sight of the adventures, the primal growls loudly, pushing flames out of the sides of its mouth. Still, they hold their position, not rushing the trio just yet.  
Na’li stands out in front, casting his singular gaze upon Ifrit’s body.  
“Anyone here ever fight a primal?”  
“Once,” Kajn reponds.  
“Hmm.”  
Na’li looks back at Kajn and Lykae with a forced cocky smile.  
“Don’t ‘spose y’all know how to fell one?”  
Kajn shakes his head and Lykae shrugs.  
“Well then,” Na’li forces, “guess we’ll either learn today, or at least buy some time for other folk to give it their best once we’re gone.”  
He lets out a huge huff and begins casting the ritual of protection.  
Suddenly, Ifrit unleashes an ear shattering scream and begins to rocket forward.  
Lykae immediately takes notice and throws her arm around Na’li and Kajn to throw them to the side with her just before Ifrit flies past.  
“Looks ‘ike we don’ have time fer that!” she shouts.  
“So be it!” Na’li returns. He breaks his focus from Ifrit for a second to survey the group.  
“We’ll need to give Kajn a minute to complete his summoning ritual, however.”  
Lykae lets out a boysterous belly laugh.  
“Wouldn’ be no fun if there weren’t a challenge, eh?” she calls out.  
“If you say so, you madwoman! You got this Kajn?”  
But Kajn is lying half on the ground, frozen still except for the rapid shaking of his eyes.  
Ifrit growls once more and readies up. Na’li points the tip of his staff at the primal, creating a large gust of wind, inflicting hundreds of minor cuts upon the beasts’ face. Even so, it seems only minorly staggered.  
“C’mon Kajn! We’re not giving up this easily!”  
Kajn is sweating profusely, and only partly because of the intense heat. His scars’ tender skin feels it the most, like the heat is somehow seeping into the closed wounds and boiling him from the inside-out. Even so, he takes a knee, pulls the book and pen out of his pouch, and begins flipping pages erratically.  
Ifrit, now tired of a little wind, begins to charge forward once more.  
“Don’t move!” Lykea commands.  
She then takes her shield and smashes it into the ground and places the sword behind it. She begins to recite an ancient collection of words, but finds herself stumbling through them after a moment.  
“What’s wrong Lykea?!” Na’li screams.  
“Shuddit! I’m- thinkin’!”  
Na’li steps one foot to the side. He eyes Ifrit coming ever closer, and then the group.  
“A pair of battered, broken, and near beaten down adventures trying to fell a demi-god,” he whispers softly, “...we were never meant for this.”  
“Na’li!” Kajn calls out, and he looks back to see the Viera, half collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving to grab as much air as he can, and sweat glistening his burn-scarred torso. There’s fear in Kajn’s eyes, yes, but resolve as well.  
Na’li takes a deep breath.  
He returns his foot to the place and begins another cast, twirling his staff in a circle before him. The group becomes surrounded in a beautiful radiance. Lykae looks up for a moment and smiles. The words then flow freely from her mouth, and in an instant her back sprouts giant beautiful blue glass-like wings, taking the adventures within their hold.  
Ifrit clashes with the front of the shield and smashes into it with full force. Lykae is shoved backwards, but holds her ground. Na’li continues to swing his staff left and right, pulling the earth itself from it’s holding in the ground and throwing large chunks of it at Ifrit.  
The beast screams once more, and the wings begin to slowly chip apart.  
Kajn furious scribbles out the beginnings of the contract, and the familiar parting of his energy leaving his chest and encircling the book renews. A spark of light forms in front of him, though only faintly.  
In a grand gesture, Ifrit takes its claw and smashes it against one of the wings, shattering part of it and knocking Na’li to the floor.  
“No, really, anytime you’re ready Kajn!” he says whilst holding his abdomen.

Kajn’s hand is shaking. The words aren’t coming out right. They’re mismatched, smudged, and frightened. The connection is diminishing between him and his familiar. He can feel the burning shooting all through the right side of his body.  
He’s a failure, and a liar once more.  
There’s nothing to be done.  
The summoning was a fluke.  
It’s over.  
“Kajn!” a voice shouts.  
It’s Lykae, still holding fast to her sword and shield, eyes closed and bearing the brunt of the flaming assault. The wings continue to crack and splinter, but they still glow beautifully in the daylight that maneuvers through the rocks above them.  
“You can do dis Kajn! Whatever happened ta us afore can’t keep us down! Afta’ all, we’re adventurers, right?”  
Kajn looks up and the words that once had to be fought to be kept inside now flow freely from his mouth.  
“Yes we are, Lykae! We’re all adventurers!”  
Lykae tries to laugh her big laugh, but she’s stifled by a horrible coughing fit.  
“Y-yea? They let’s get ‘dis fight over wit!”  
“I would like that too…” Na’li says painfully, still lying on the ground.  
Kajn nods and, with newfound resolve, takes his pen down and flies through the contract’s lines. The aether inside him flows less like a river and more like a raging sea. It channels endlessly through the book and into the glowing being forming before him.  
“Sorry boys but…” Lykae begins.  
“But what?!” shouts Na’li.  
The wings around the group shatter like glass, with the pieces hitting the floor and dissolving into aetherial dust.  
“This is it!” Lykae screams.  
The wings break completely, leaving nothing left between the adventures and Ifrit save for a small, metal shield. The beast then raises its claw high into the air and growls, releasing bits of flames from either side of its mouth. In a flash, the claw comes down, rushing towards Lykea first and-  
“Bind!”  
The claw stops in mid-air.  
“What in the hells…” Na’li manages out.  
A chain. An aetherial glowing chain has been wrapped around the primal’s charred skin, holding it back even through the repeated struggles of Ifrit to break it off. And looking to the other side, the chain is being held by a tiny little vibrating creature with big fluffy ears and round black eyes.   
A pearl-white.  
Colored.  
Carbuncle.  
With not a moment to waste, Kajn jams the book back into his pouch and drags Na’li as far away as he can, with Lykae following closely behind. Kajn forces himself back up, with Na’li behind him and Lykae taking large breaths on her knees in the back.  
“Lykae, you take a minute,” Kajn directs.  
“But what about-” she retorts.  
“Na’li, you go right and I left. We’ll just have to share his attention for a few moments.”  
Na’li nods and starts traveling around the right side of the canyon. Kajn goes left, and Lykae falls to her side in a huff. As both adventures walk the edges of the battleground, Ifrit switches their gaze side-to-side.   
When the beast eyes Kajn, Na’li throws a stone in their face, which forces them to look that way only to be blasted by a miasma, spreading a horrible rot upon Ifrit’s guise. As the disease starts its spread, Kajn tosses in a bio strike, containmanating the creatures insides and causing them to stagger.  
The primal opts to begin walking towards Kajn, now ignoring whatever Na’li tries to throw at it.  
“It don’t care for me much anymore, Kajn!” he shouts from across the way.  
As Ifrit edges ever closer. Kajn stands alone, merely smirking at the creature. Just as it gets close enough to unleash its flames, it’s suddenly pelted with tiny sparks of aether, formed like bullets, at its rotting face. Ifrit shoots its deadly stare at the would-be attacker, only to see a tiny carbuncle, voiceless, but not motionless, forming tiny bits of aether in front of it and shooting them at the primal without reprisal.  
Ifrit roars loud enough to shake the higher rocks of the canyon loose from their dormant homes, and as it does, its jaw opens up and the skin pulls apart and tears away as the miasma digs deeper into the flesh and sinew.   
Without pause, the beast rotates its entire body towards the tiny carbuncle and begins to drip molten flames from its mouth. A circle of blazing red fire begins to form inside its jaw, which is now half collapsing, the rot having torn through the bones with an incredible speed. The fire gathers more and more, and in a split second Ifrit shoots it out of its mouth and towards the carbuncle.  
Suddenly a blinding flash takes over the arena, and all that can be heard over Ifrit’s howling is the grunt of a familiar Roe. When the light recedes, she’s on one knee, splitting the flame in two with her shield. Alas, no one, and nothing, sits behind her.  
“No… was I too late…?” Lykae questions.  
Ifrit’s flames relinquish and the beast slumps towards the ground. The miasma rot has set in fully and is making its way to the top of its head, eating away at its eyes. They bubble up as the flesh is being eaten alive from the endless hunger of the misama’s aether.  
Lykae looks over to Kajn, about to bear the bad news, but instead sees him holding the carbuncle in his arm much like one would hold a cat. For it’s part, the carbuncle doesn’t seem to mind. Kajn merely tilts his head at Lykae.  
“You didn’t know that-” he begins.  
“I didn’t know-” she returns at him.  
Interrupting their conversation is Ifrit’s roar once more, now extremely hollowed and pained. The jaw is barely hanging on by a thread at this point, swinging back and forth on a single bone joint, leaving the tongue ungracefully dangingly from its mouth, and the parasitic miasma is eating away to the gooey insides of its head starting from the top of its mouth. The beast takes a step forward, and Lykae readies her blade.  
“Just need to wait for his ‘ead to to be a liddle closa’,” she calmly states.  
Ifrit continues its march forward, but as it does the sounds of bones cracking and snapping echo throughout the canyon. Na’li covers his ears from the sheer distortion of it all.  
“Would seem the bio has taken a hold of the skeleton,” Kajn states.  
“All we needed was time to stall.” Na’li answers to himself.  
Ifrit makes one final lunge forward towards Lykae, but the bones in its front legs break in two and extrude out the back of its body. The beast falls to one side, and its lower jaw to the other.  
As its body begins to slowly dissipate into aether once more, Na’li says, “won’t be the last of ‘em.”  
“No, but it’ll keep him at bay for now,” Kajn reponds.  
“Good enuf fer me,” Lykae spouts, “cause my ‘ead is killin’ me.”  
She rubs carefully at her temple. Na’li saunters over and works some curing magic upon her exterior wounds.  
“Can’t do much for ye head, but hopefully this helps a bit.”  
“Aye,” she answers, “thank ye.”  
Kajn studies the scene for a moment, then falls flat backwards to the ground.  
“Aye Kajn, you alright ‘ere?!” Na’li calls out.  
Kajn gives a small wave.  
“I’m fine.”  
The carbuncle jumps on his stomach, light as a feather. He gently pets his new companion.  
“Just fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

The tavern rests cozily in the lamplights of the warm early evening. The first days of summer were quite on their way, now. Most of the people inside are covered in dust, dirt, and grime from the day’s work, and a few others are still stumbling in, some wearing new cuts and bruises; some, old ones. Luckily, tonight at least, no one seems to be that much worse for wear.

And out on the balcony stands a female Roe, who’s trying with some difficulty to remove her plated armor, along with a one-eyed Miqo’te carefully resting his staff along the railing, and a scar-ridden Viera wearing a pleasant smile while he pets a glowing white carbuncle curled up and taking nap on the table. They each bask in the setting sun, letting the last rays of the day whimsically bounce on their faces while they share in stories and laughter together.  
Some time later, DoeDoe saunters out, a plate of drinks above his head.  
“Ah, much better out here,” he expels.  
He shoves the plate onto the table, careful to watch the wobbling of the drinks above, then walks over and gives Kajn a few solid pats on the leg. Kajn looks down and smiles widely. DoeDoe twirls at his mustache and smiles back before walking back into the tavern.  
Na’li takes a drink and moves it towards him, then absent-mindedly stares into it.  
“Sure showed that beast we’re not too beat down to fight, huh…” he says.  
“Yeah…” Lykae answers while gazing out into the endless forest past the railing. The sun is now finally giving out its last bits of light, but leaving its warmth a little longer as a parting gift.  
“Could have maybe told Lykae about how carbuncles can move so quickly though, Kajn,” Na’li slyly says.  
Kajn had been intently focused on petting the carbuncle that he barely registered the words coming at him.  
“I suppose so.”  
Na’li stifles a laugh, but Lykae has no such restraint, erupting into a full gut buster at the thought. Suddenly, Kajn becomes aware of his inattention and begins to blush brightly.  
“I’m so sorry Lykae, I didn’t mean to-”  
But she’s already far gone, barely able to lift her drink anymore. Her laughter, for now, has overtaken her. Na’li merely offers a dismissive wave at Kajn.  
“Sure it’s fine…” he offers.  
Na’li reaches his hand out to pet the carbuncle, who opens its eyes and sits absolutely still for a moment as the hand makes contact. When Na’li intentions are made clear by the careful petting of its head, the carbuncle resumes its peaceful rest.  
“Just occurred to me,” Na’li says, “that you never told us its name.”  
Na’li looks up to Kajn, who lowers his face as it starts to crumple like paper. In only a moment, tears stream down from his eyes. Na’li pulls his hand back and the carbuncle once again raises their head to see what’s happening.  
“Gods, I’m sorry Kajn, I-”  
Kajn raises his face to the light once more, and through the tears, there’s a smile holding strong.  
“Their name… is Ozera.”

>   
>    
> 

On a late summer’s eve, a little festival is being held in New Gridania. Younger children are playing quirky makeshift games along the road, the smell of delicious homemade food wafts through the air, and there are an endless amount of stalls hawking their wares at anyone who’ll stop for a moment.  
Among the many Lalafell and Miqo’te native to the area are some Elezen, a few Hyurs, and a lone Viera. He’s wearing plain robes, his arms behind his back as he tries to ignore the stares of all the people looking far up to the clouds to admire his height. Occasionally one will stop him just to ask how tall he really is. One asked where he was visiting from.  
“A faraway place called the Greatwoods,” he tells them.  
They ask why he’s come all the way to Eorzea. Seems like quite a journey.  
“I’ve heard of these creatures…” he usually begins, but trails off. He doesn’t know the words he needs to express what he means.  
“T-tall?” he offers.  
The polite listeners often look confused at that. The Viera struggles to try again.  
He turns around and points a finger at his tail; a stout little bunny bun, but he makes a waving motion with both of his hands on it.  
“Tail?” they offer back.  
They nod slowly, in unison. The Viera can feel the eyes on him. What a strange creature he must be to them. Standing at some eight feet tall, with large ears and can barely speak their language, so instead he’s mimicking the motions of the words he doesn’t know like some child. His face begins to fill up with red at the embarrassment of it all. Rather than trying to continue this game, he slinks away in defeat.

After a while of perusing the stalls and trying to ask whomever he can, he’s all but given up on trying to find what he journeyed here for, and his neck is beginning to hurt from having to look down so much.  
Just as he rounds one last corner towards the exit, he spies an odd sight. A figure as tall as himself, here in Gridania, under the shadow of a tree. With hesitation, he walks towards the person and taps them on the shoulder. Could it be another Viera? That would be a welcome sight.  
As the figure turns, his heart sinks. The person is as tall as him, yes, but instead of long ears they seem to have large horns protruding out of the sides of their head instead. Their skin is a darkish-blue color, and the horns an even more midnight shade the same. Surprisingly however, their face is soft; incredibly so, even. Their stare is one of more abject confusion than anger, their eyebrows arched outward instead of inward. Their eyes glow a soft lavender in the evening light, with their black hair pulled back and out of the way, exposing the whole of their face.  
The Viera remembers reading something about these creatures. Something called “Au Ra”. They contain what the Hyurs tended to call “dragon-like” features in the same breath as they would describe Viera like himself as “rabbit-like”.  
“Need...something?” the Au Ra asks in Eorzean. The words form slowly, but with some semblance of confidence as well.  
“Do-do-do…” the Viera tries, but the word he wants just isn’t there. The Au Ra continues to look confused, but otherwise fine.  
With an elongated sigh, the Viera takes one finger and points at his own ears.  
The Au Ra furrows their brow.  
“Red,” the Viera says, while pointing to his forehead.  
The Au Ra nods along, and the Viera’s heart sinks lower. Just like the rest. He arches his back foot to turn and make his way home from the other exit.  
“Do you come from the Greatwoods?” the Au Ra asks, and the Viera recognizes that tongue. It’s native to him.  
“How do you know my language?” he responds in turn.  
“Eorzea may have a common language among most of their people’s, but outside of it, the rest of us must adopt and understand the words of our neighbors.”  
“I… suppose so…”  
The Au Ra smiles a little bit.  
“You may never have met me personally, but we do facilitate trade with those of the Greatwoods.”  
At that the Viera mimics the slow nod he’s seen so many times today.

>   
>    
> 

The stars are now out in full effect, and between them and the beautiful trees that surround the village, the Viera feels like this is almost home. People are making their final rounds across the stalls while a few of the vendors begin packing up for the night.  
The Viera sits on the bench with the Au Ra, both eating delicious local candy treats, and both with incredible vigor. In the Viera’s lap sits a tiny blue carbuncle plush toy, and he hasn’t let it go since the Au Ra bought it from a vendor and handed it to him. They each go without a word to one another as they eat, barely even taking moments to breathe.  
But, after some time, the snacks are no more, and the quiet begins to set in around Gridania for the evening.  
The Au Ra is the first to break the silence with, “so... “twas a ‘carbuncle” that you wanted all this time.”  
The Viera nods joyfully as he holds up the plush with both hands to the air.  
“Usually they’re just toys for kids before they can summon their own, though…” he continues.  
“Well…” the Viera heaves out, “much as I’ve studied, I’ve never… been able to summon one.”  
“Huh.”

The Au Ra gives a long look at the Viera, scanning him up and down. The Viera pulls the carbuncle close to his body once more, and the Au Ra gently smiles.  
“Well I think you can do it. Maybe you just need a… er…”  
He seems lost in thought for a moment.  
“A fo-cus?” he announces, “I believe that is the word.”  
“Fo-cus…” the Viera softly repeats.  
“Yes! Like a staff or a book or such! Something that will let you channel your aether into a physical form.”  
The Viera nods along nonchalantly, and the Au Ra gives a concerned look.  
“I’m serious. You can do it if you put your mind to it. We can get you one tomorrow at the market.”  
“I’m afraid I have no money of my own,” the Viera confesses, “we don’t work with ‘gil’ in the Greatwoods.”  
“So I see. How long do you plan to be here, then?”  
“Well, I’ve no place to-” the Viera begins, then stops himself. “...as long as it takes.”  
The Au Ra nods along. They rub their hands together and look towards the ground beneath them.  
“As long as it takes. I understand,” they say uncharacteristically quietly tonight.  
The Viera simply stares at them for a moment; the intricate movement of their fingers intertwined. As he watches, he flexes his own hand, trying to imagine the spaces between their hands and his filled with each other’s.   
How warm their skin must be.  
How much he’d love to feel it.

The Au Ra then shoots their head back up and, in the same tone as before, announces, “If you’re willing to work, then I’m sure you can afford a tome in no time. Then, it’s only a matter of practicing the ritual! Simple as that.”  
When the Au Ra looks to him for confirmation, the Viera buries his reddening face into his plush.  
“If you say so, dragon boy…”  
The Au Ra suddenly has a comically shocked look.  
“B-oy? Not familiar with the term.”  
“O-oh… it’s sort of, a way to identify others?”  
The Au Ra leans back further on the bench.  
“Okay...I suppose we don’t have a need for that word in The Steppe. Au Ra are simply Au Ra.”  
The Viera looks at them, and he now feels more flustered than ever before.   
“Then…” he trails off, keeping his words inside.  
A long silence. The Au Ra has their eyes closed and their arms spread across the bench, basking in the moonlight. The Viera, meanwhile, is trying to make himself smaller in his spot until the Au Ra opens an eye and glances at him. He folds himself back in and stands up fully, getting in a good stretch. The Viera notices and hurriedly stands up himself. The Au Ra is face to face with him.  
“Feel better now that you’re not trying to cram yourself in?” they say with a laugh, the first the Viera heard. It was hearty, and full.  
“Yes,” the Viera replies with a nervous laugh, “it’s nice this way.”  
The Au Ra gently takes the Viera’s free hand. The one not still yet holding the carbuncle. It shakes a bit in the dragon’s grip.  
“I suppose you can feel a little lonely up here,” they say, gesturing their hand to the tops of their heads, “especially around these people.”  
The Viera says nothing.  
“But hey, I’m here for you, at least, until you return home.”  
The Viera mummers something under his breath.  
“What was that?” the Au Ra asks.  
“I can’t go home. Not anymore,” he softly says.  
The Au Ra looks puzzled.  
“And why is that?”  
“When we leave the Greatwoods to become an adventurer, we are outcast.”  
“I see…”  
“And there aren’t many tall people around,” he continues whist stifling a laugh.  
The Au Ra laughs with him, and they stand together like that a few moments more.  
“So,” the Au Ra finally says, “an adventurer? Then we’ll definitely need you to have that focus starting tomorrow. Sadly, for now, I must go. It’s been a wonderful night, though.”  
The Au Ra release their grip, and the Viera’s fingers linger in the air for a few moments longer before lazily retreating to his side. As the Au Ra begins to walk away, the Viera can feel the words trying to escape him, and no matter how badly he wants to keep them in for a reason he cannot explain-  
“B-but-” he stammers out.  
The Au Ra turns back.

The distance between them feels so far right now, but compared to the mountains and deserts the Viera trekked just for a chance to escape his old life, see new lands, meet a carbuncle, and maybe someone special, it might as well be no distance at all.  
“Wh-what’s yo-your na-name?”  
The Viera raises the carbuncle to his face, as a shield from embarrassment, or as a sword for courage, he doesn’t know.  
“Just... so I know fo-for… tomorrow…” he utters.  
The Au Ra smiles and knocks a fist to their head casually.  
“Oh, my apologies. My name is Ozera. And yours?”  
“Kajn, though in common tongue, it’s pronounced something like Kein.”  
Ozera nods with a smile.  
“Well Kajn, I must adjourn for the evening, though I will see you tomorrow for that focus and, stars permitting, soon after that.”  
The Viera lowers his carbuncle plush defense, it’s cotton filled fibers no longer protecting him against these repeated blows.  
“You think so?”  
The Viera pauses for a moment.  
“Cause it’s nice to have someone so… tall….”  
Ozera tries to hold back a little snicker at that.  
“Of course. We tall folk should stick together.”  
“Yeah!”

Ozera takes a few steps forward toward Kajn once more. When they approach, they gesture to the carbuncle plush in Kajn’s arms and put a hand over its unmoving fuzzy head.  
“May I?” they ask softly.  
Kajn nods. Ozera pets the plush with gentle strokes.  
“One day you’ll be able to summon your very own carbuncle. I just know it.”  
Kajn remains at a loss for words as he feels the warm breath of Ozera so closely on him.  
“And whenever you have a companion, home is anywhere, as long as you’re with them.”  
Kajn lowers his head to try and hide his ridiculous smile. He feels so glad that the night sky allows him the comfort of shadows over his face right now. Ozera removes their hand, but Kajn can see their feet haven’t moved away yet. He looks back up.  
Ozera takes their head and places it to Kajn’s, and he can immediately feel the warmth of their bodies connected. His breathing becomes shallow, and irregular.  
“This is goodbye, but only for now Kajn, okay?”  
With nowhere to go, Kajn can only answer what he feels.  
“Okay. Until next time, Ozera.”  
Ozera takes their hands and carefully places them around Kajn, placing the carbuncle plush between them as they hug in the moonlight, bathing in the warmth of each other.  
“And I pray it shall not be too long…” they say.  
Kajn smiles broadly for the first time since he left home.


End file.
